


Protecting Connor

by Pizelle



Series: Baby Connor: The YB100 Trials [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Angst, Baby Chloe, Baby Connor - Freeform, Bed-Wetting, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Discipline, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Original Character(s), Parent Hank Anderson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-03-30 21:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19035973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizelle/pseuds/Pizelle
Summary: The FBI has sent investigators back to Detroit in an assumed effort to understand the RK900's chaotic warpath across the city. Concerned that they will stumble onto more secrets than they need to know, Elijah Kamski officially hires Connor to continue testing the YB series of androids, and transfers him to a toddler model known as YB200 in the attempt to hide him from those unaware of the YB100 project's existence.Hank must help ensure the visitors fail to discover Connor's secret. But with Connor doing everything possible to satisfy his new need for attention and affection, it'll prove even more challenging than before to protect his charge and keep the FBI far from arms' reach.(On hiatus for now!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to book 3 of the YB100 series! I never thought I'd be at this point, but I never thought I'd have written a sequel either, and look what happened. All I Need To Know is going on hiatus for a little bit, jsyk.
> 
> First off: If you have not read Raising Connor and Celebrating Connor, please do so before tackling Protecting Connor. There are plot points and original minor characters returning that will not make sense to you unless you read those books first. I will still welcome plot suggestions and consider them, but I have the major story line planned out and will not deviate from it too much as of right now.
> 
> Continuing from before, remember that dialogue in quotation marks is spoken out loud, and dialogue in slashes are silent communications of androids with others or to themselves.
> 
> Thank you so much for supporting these stories, and I hope you'll enjoy this installment as well! You can follow me on tumblr at pizellewrites, or follow the tumblr tags 'protecting connor' or 'pizellewritesdbh' if you just want story updates.

"Are you sure you want to do this so soon?"

A man and a woman were seated in the backseat of a classic yellow taxi cab, driving on a turnpike beneath the bright lights against a black sky dotted sparingly with stars. There was barely a soul on the road, and in the distance planes and other aircraft ascended and descended near a large campus of buildings.

"No. I'm not sure. But my bags are packed, and the arrangements have been made." She spoke carefully and slowly in her wizened voice, like an uncertain hiker crossing a rope bridge. She reached into her pearl leather purse and held on tightly to a small object inside.

"Maybe it will help take your mind off of things."

"That is my hope." She said softly, closing the bag and looking out the window once more. "What are they like?"

"Unpredictable. Just like humans." The man's voice was relaxed, but with a tint of concern.

"I see." She answered plainly.

"I'll be setting up camp in the DPD's new underground station. It's built beneath an apartment complex where the members of the department and their families live. It's a renovation from an abandoned area of the old subway system. Nice, but still a little rough around the edges. We each have been granted an apartment there to use until the investigation is over. Hopefully we'll be in and out in a few days."

\---

"I'm sorry!" 

Connor stood at Hank's bedside, stress levels at sixty-five percent and climbing, albeit slowly, as Hank tugged his fitted sheet off of the mattress in his room.

"I'm sorry, dad! I neglected to react to the warning message in a timely manner, I promise I will exercise more care from now on-"

"Connor, calm down." Hank gruffed. "You wet the bed. The hell are you gonna do when something really bad happens?"

"Explode."

Hank rolled his eyes. Connor wasn't exaggerating, but it sounded like a childish response in a sense. "You are not exploding." He said sternly, pointing at the brunette before balling the soiled linens up and throwing them into his hamper.

Connor Cole Anderson, also known as the former Deviant Hunter RK800, was an emotional mess of an android and the adopted son of Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the Detroit City Police Department. Despite being solely with the human he trusted more than anybody else in the world, shame had flooded his mind and all he could do was stand there with his hands fisted and fidgeting while keeping his legs crossed.

"Come on son." Hank's tired voice commanded as he gently pressed his hand against Connor's back to lead him out of the room. "Sooner you get cleaned up, the sooner we can go back to bed."

"I'm truly sorry, and I don't know how to be anymore sincere about it-"

"Ssshh." Hank hushed him. "You can help me put new sheets on the bed." The android mulled it over, and nodded.

Once Connor was in new boxers, they both set to work in making the bed in the dimly lit bedroom. It still bothered Connor that he'd done what he'd done, but all Hank cared about was getting back to sleep as soon as possible. They hadn't yet purchased a bed for Connor to use in his adult form, so Hank allowed him to sleep on the other side of his own bed.

A few days had passed since Connor's birthday party, and the android had shaken off most of his babyish tendencies from the transfer. But despite being an RK800 again, there was new hardware to adjust to. He picked up how it worked quickly during the day, but his system priorities were still too focused on maintenance at night to give him enough of a warning to react to. And when he did something 'immature' in nature, his emotions went wild, just like a child's.

Before Connor climbed back into bed, Hank laid out some clean but permanently stained bath towels on the android's side of the bed, then smoothed out the wrinkles. "Come on, lay down. I can't sleep with the light on, and I got work in the morning."

"May I come along?" Connor asked softly as Hank laid down and tugged the sheets over himself and his head.

"You know the answer to that question, son." He muttered. "Go to sleep."

Connor sighed softly, slowly slipping into bed and mimicking Hank. A hairy arm emerged from Hank's side of the bed and shut off the lights with his phone, leaving Connor lying on his back in the dark as Hank focused on relaxing so he could sleep again.

Connor didn't really need to sleep as he had just a week ago. Connor was no longer a YB100. No longer a detective piloting the world's first android baby model. The first year of Connor's life was a glorious mess, full of ups and downs. There were so many low and dark memories in his mechanical mind that Connor had just wanted to do the android version of curling up into a ball and disappearing, perhaps something even more serious. He'd helped Markus during the android uprising, overcome the toxic AI version of Amanda Stern that was put in his coding, and become deviant. But after it all, he returned to CyberLife and had himself stored on their servers, and his body destroyed along with all the other RK800 parts that hadn't been used. He told them not to reactivate him unless he was needed.

And he was. Hank had grown too attached to what he used to consider was a metal and plastic thorn in his side. And so an agreement was reached between the newly managed tech corporation and the lieutenant: take care of Connor as a baby in exchange for bringing Connor back to his old self in a new RK800 model.

What started as a simple experiment led to even more excitement of both the good and bad variety, but one thing was certain: Connor had a purpose and a reason to live, even if he wasn't one hundred percent sure what they were.

After his birthday party, he realized his mistake. He'd had -reasons- to live. Not just one.

Lying there quietly, Connor stared at the ceiling, surfing the web and looking at a wiki of Doggy Defenders, an animated show Hank had introduced him to while testing the YB100. He watched a few clips and discovered a few interesting facts about the program, like how former law enforcement officers and early childhood educators came up with the show. That led to looking up the other shows he enjoyed, and he felt something that, despite it only being a week, he was certain was nostalgic.

His maintenance programs booted back up again once his stress levels had fallen back to safe levels, and he caught a glimpse of a recent memory that made him feel good. Hank was cradling him in his arms with a warm, loving smile. They'd sat in the rocking chair in Connor's room, and the tiny android felt sleepy but at ease as Hank sang to him. The older man was quiet, out of embarrassment at his rumbly, low voice but also in an attempt to keep Connor calm as he was rocked.

"Daddy loves you, Connor." He always said after Connor was saved from the maniacal RK900 unit that was hunting him down in an attempt to kidnap him.

Once it had been scanned, Connor turned his head towards his father with a small smile, but it fell upon seeing the stressed expression on the dormant man's face. Going through more memories consciously at high speeds, he remembered the few times Hank had brought him to bed with him. He would pull Connor against his chest and curl around him protectively. Were he human, every health professional would be appalled by his lack of safety concerns for the boy, but Connor was a bit more resilient, being an android.

"Da-" Connor started, but Hank grunted and turned in bed, causing Connor to tense up and close his eyes, pretending to be in sleep mode.

Hank's eyes had shot open as the younger man predicted.

"Connor?" He sputtered, ready to help his son. But the android appeared to be fast asleep. He heaved another sigh of relief. Truth be told, his difficulty in getting enough rest wasn't from Connor waking him up. It was because he was worried about Connor, no matter what state the boy was in.

He slipped his arm around his pillow and watched him for a few moments, mind muddled with self-doubt and anxiety. Connor was an adult now, and would be for another week.

And he didn't know how to handle that.

He was an old pro with babies. He'd tamed tots, both human and now android. Hank thought of himself as a wonderful father figure. But Hank had no idea what to expect when his son was a grown man...or at least in the form of one.

He wanted to pull Connor close into a warm hug, but held back. Connor wasn't a child at the moment. The former detective was so frustrated with learning how his android digestive system worked, and before that was persistent in walking by himself, dressing himself, and just being independent once more. All deviants desired their freedom in many ways.

He needed to leave Connor be, but still be supportive. From afar. That seemed the best course of action.

Connor didn't dare move or open his eyes again until the timing of Hank's breathing slowed enough to be in a dormant state. Turning his head very slowly, Hank's face had relaxed, a soft moan muffled by his fluffy pillow.

The fitted sheet with blue and white stripes became wet once more, but from silently falling saline tears near the top of the mattress.

Face damp from sadness, Connor blankly stared at the ceiling for the next four hours until he received an unexpected text message from a friend. It was a soft beeping that only he could hear. A familiar set of ten digits graced his feed.

/Markus./ Connor's lips briefly curled up. Markus and his friends from Jericho didn't need to sleep either. That became obvious again when he saw the notification. He dialed the number and waited patiently, hoping he would pick up.

/Hey, thought you'd be asleep./ Markus answered gently with a tinge of amusement in his voice.

/Good...morning, Un...Markus./ Connor replied somewhat sheepishly. /I hope I'm not interrupting you./

/Not much goes on at four a.m./ Markus chuckled, easing Connor's anxiety a few points, but not enough to dissipate completely. /Are you okay?/

/I'm fine./ There was some hesitation in his answer, but he'd told himself that he was okay. His stress was only a few points higher than normal, but other than that, his systems were running as they should be.

Markus seemed doubtful, but accepted his response. /That's good to hear. I haven't talked to you since the party. How is the new body treating you?/

/It's...functional./ Connor exhaled, sinking lower under the covers. He looked over at Hank again, a longing in his eyes to be closer to him. Despite the fact that there barely inches between them, he felt alone.

/Connor, are you sure everything is okay?/ Markus asked again. /Tell me the truth./

/I haven't lied to you./ He was quick to answer. /Technically. My body is working as it should, therefore I am functioning and I'm fine./

/You aren't -feeling- fine, are you?/

Connor shut his eyes again, more tears rolling down his face. /No./

/Connor.../ Markus cooed sympathetically. He wished he could be there for his friend. /You can talk to me. Whenever you need me. I'm sure North, Simon and Josh would promise you the same./

Though Markus couldn't see, Connor nodded, running the back of his hand over his wet eyes. It took him a few minutes to get in a stable state to continue the conversation. /I don't think Dad loves me anymore./

/What? Why would you think that?/ Markus seemed surprised at what had been revealed.

/I don't know./ Connor's response was sincere. He didn't know why. Hank was giving him practically the same treatment as he had when the transfer was over. But as each day passed, it didn't feel right. /I wet the bed...again.../ Connor started to go over the past few days, sharing all of his mistakes with the Jericho leader. /I dropped Sumo's dog food all over the floor, and he said I'm not allowed to feed Sumo until he said otherwise. And then-/

/Connor, ssshhh./ Markus hushed him as he had done when Connor was a crying baby in his arms so many times. /Relax. It's all in the past. Worse things have happened. You know that well, as do I./

/...I miss you./ Connor murmured, the care in the android leader's voice still quite effective.

/...Well, why don't I come over tomorrow? We'll go to Carl's house. I promised his new caretaker I'd fill in for him for a few days while he took some time off to himself. Would you like to try painting?/

Connor smiled. A day at 'Grandpa' Carl's house sounded like just the thing to help him feel better. He needed a change in scenery and something to look forward to. /Yes. I would love to. I'm sure Hank won't mind./

At least, he didn't think he would. Hank would be at work most of the day anyway, and maybe even have to do overtime. He was an RK800 too. An adult android. He was free to do as he pleased.

/Perfect. I'll stop by around nine./

/Thank you Uncle Markus...Markus./ Connor slipped, scrubbing at blushing cheeks that Markus had a hunch were obvious on the younger android's face.

/Go back to sleep now, okay?/

/Okay. See you soon./

Having something to look forward to, Connor settled into bed and successfully entered sleep mode a final time, stress levels at their lowest and a calm spreading throughout his programming.


	2. Chapter 2

Connor kept up his facade until Hank left for work in the morning, waiting to hear the front door close and the lock set in place. He was careful not to spring out of bed too fast, in the event that Hank may have forgotten something. After what felt like the longest ten minutes and twenty-two seconds of his life, he sat up and patted the bed beneath his behind, filled with relief that there were no wet spots on the towels beneath him or on his boxers.

"Good morning, Sumo." Connor smiled as the old dog ventured into the room for morning pets and cuddles. The android hugged the dog tightly but carefully, nuzzling the soft fur on the forehead of his friend. "Judging by the scent on your breath, Hank remembered to feed you breakfast."

Once all of his visuals were booted up and adjusted for the morning light, Connor wandered into his bedroom, which at the moment only served as a place to keep his clothes. Markus would be there in about an hour to take him to Carl Manfred's place, so he wanted to be ready with time to spare. While a deviant, Connor liked some routine.

The room hit Connor with a feint and brief scent of stale air, but most everything was how it had been left the morning of his transfer. Stepping further in, he ran his hand along the bars of his crib, recalling how different it was to be inside the strange baby bed rather than the person looking in. The changing table still had baby supplies inside, but Connor noted the amounts hadn't changed either. Finally standing before his dresser, he pulled out the middle drawer where his adult clothes were neatly folded and divided into outfits with undergarments, pants, shirts, and socks. He recalled the shopping trip fondly, as a human woman had helped him find matching looks when Hank found himself overwhelmed by the mall's selection. Connor understood color theory, but fashion was a new world he hadn't researched much. Complicated and complex. fashion rules were different for every individual.

Having had difficulty dressing himself as the YB100 and the first two days of being an adult, he felt pleased and independent being able to choose his own threads and put them on without issue. There was a slight reflection in the window with which he used to look himself over, smoothing out and tugging down the front of his shirt. Being up a few floors, Connor unlocked the window and pulled it up to help give his space some circulation.

Desiring a better look, Connor closed his door and went into the bathroom. It was another room in the house that had once been a mess, but now all the bath toys sat in an orange bucket underneath the sink. Connor knelt down and pulled the orca out, turning it in his hands until he glanced in the mirror at himself. His hair was much fluffier looking than before, and lacked the appearance of being slicked back with hair gel. Nobody was certain why it changed, but that was the new default, and he saw nothing wrong with it.

Connor turned on the water and waited for the level to rise high enough that he could submerge the toy and fill it up. It was a water squirter too, but Connor never had the coordination or strength to fill it all the way until now. He amused himself for some time until he heard the door unlock. Panicked, Connor dropped the orca into the sink and left the room, recalling that Markus was expected and finding the man to be his visitor upon reaching the door.

"Ooof!" Markus grunted and laughed when Connor tackled him, hugging his friend tightly.

"Markus! I'm so happy to see you." Connor beamed when he finally released the older android. "Please come in!"

"I'd love to, but we need to get going. Don't want Carl's breakfast to turn into brunch."

"Ah, alright." Connor nodded, then took a quick look around the living room and kitchen before setting foot outside the door. Markus locked the door behind them, then led the way to the parking lot.

Connor followed at Markus' side, anticipation fogging his attention until Markus threw his arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. The former detective blushed, leaning against Markus with a soft giggle as the Jericho leader showed him affection.

"Don't worry, we'll have a good time. I was told there are a few candies left from the party too..."

"I can't wait. I'm most excited to try painting." Connor admitted.

"You'll love it. It's a great way to understand your emotions and get them out in a peaceful way."

"I didn't know you had a car." Connor marveled as they approached an old but fancy and well-maintained vehicle that had been updated with current automobile tech. A brief touch along the outside gave Connor vehicle make and year, among other information.

"It's Carl's, it'd been sitting in a storage center for years. I asked permission to use it for a political gathering, but he told me it was mine now." He laughed, unlocking the doors.

"What a generous gift." Connor nodded, taking his seat of choice on the passenger's side. He marveled at the interior while Markus situated himself behind the wheel, though all it took to get the vehicle going was a swipe of his hand over the ignition. The car roared to life, and the radio instantly started to play music from the 1970's and 1980's. "Hank listens to these artists as well at times."

"Lieutenant Anderson has an appreciation for all sorts of music, I've noticed. He never struck me as the type to enjoy jazz, though."

"I think he has a little of everything. Vinyl records, cassettes, compact discs...."

"Ah, that's right. He has an appreciation for older formats of media too." Markus commented as the car prepared to get onto the road. "This is so much nicer than the bus."

"Agreed." Connor smiled, staring at the buildings near their apartment as the car accelerated to the local speed limit.

\---

"A meeting?" Hank gruffed, leaning back in his chair as Fowler motioned to his email.

"You're gonna be there whether you like it or not. An 'old friend' is coming." Jeffrey sneered slightly, hinting at his dislike for the visitor.

"Old friend?"

"You'll know when you see him. Try not to strangle him. Don't know what the kid would do with you in prison."

Hearing that, Hank's brows arched in amusement and curiosity. "Well, I guess it's not Gavin." He concluded jokingly.

"Should've taken that swanky job in the burbs, Hank." Jeffrey joked in a sing-song tone.

"Psh. You'd all be lost without me."

Hank rose from his chair and took a look around the station as he wandered towards one of three conference rooms along the wall. A few other officers were also on their way, including a familiar scarred face.

"Nobody told me we were playing fucking catch in the conference room." Hank smirked at Detective Gavin Reed, who pressed a baseball and leather glove against the lieutenant's chest. "I got a glove, Reed."

"It's for the toaster." Gavin hinted, trying not to be too obvious.

"Toaster...goddamn it, don't call him that. What are you, twelve?"

"Look, this is me being...being nice." Gavin frowned.

Hank was quiet for a moment, but began to turn the ball in his hand while nodding. "I'll give it to him on my break."

"Yeah."

The two awkwardly entered the room together and took a seat at opposite ends of the long table in black folding chairs. Fancy snacks were set out on the table, and a sheet of paper printed with the contents of a contract lay in front of each seat with a pen.

"Old school." Hank chuckled, looking over the paper.

Silence struck the room once the last person was inside, and remained that way for about ten minutes. Everyone was hypersensitive to each other, down to catching glimpses towards the door, each other, or the crudites and caramel apple dip before them.

Hank spent his time eyeballing the form, and seeing a familiar anagram at the bottom reminded him of what was expected to come the following week.

"Shit."

"What's up, Hank? Never signed an NDA before?" A curious officer joked.

However, Gavin had a sense that the information, let alone the existence of the form, could be trouble for Lieutenant Anderson, and kept quiet as well.

Before Hank could have time to think, the door opened quietly, and a frighteningly familiar face walked through the doorway, briefcase in hand and a messenger bag for a laptop slung over his shoulder. A forced smiled spread across his face as the bag and briefcase were set upon the table with a soft thud.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen." He held up a cardholder with a metal insignia above an aged identification card.

Things were about to get real...

"FBI Special Agent Richard Perkins. It's a pleasure to see you all again...trust you're doing well with the mess from last year." He laughed, the only person in the room finding himself funny. "Well, doing what you can, considering the situation..."

Things were about to get real, and Hank needed to call Elijah Kamski. The sooner, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

It took a special something to get Carl Manfred into a genuinely good mood, and today that special something was Markus and Connor joining him for breakfast.

And Connor literally did join them for breakfast, though at first he wasn't aware that the second place setting Markus asked him to put on the table was for him. "Is Carl expecting a guest as well?"

"Nope. It's just the three of us, thankfully." Markus replied, laying strips of uncooked bacon into a hot pan.

"Then what is the extra set of silverware and plate for?"

Markus smiled mischievously. "I thought you liked scrambled eggs." He teased.

Connor's look of confusion disappeared with a flash of his endearing smile, and he had no other questions to ask as he arranged the place setting onto each platter. Perfectly arranged, he stood and admired his work until Markus plated breakfast from each pan. Connor's plate was filled with fluffy eggs just like Carl's, but lacking the extras. That was more than alright, since android stomachs could not hold much food in the first place.

Connor carried out his own tray while Markus presented the artist with his own delicious spread before taking a seat beside Connor across from his father figure. "I hope you both enjoy." He smiled, setting a thirium pouch beside Connor's glass.

"Thank you, Markus. I actually have an appetite this morning."

"Do you?"

"Haha," Carl chuckled, adding pepper on top of his eggs. "Surprising, isn't it? Connor's really selling them too." He pointed at the RK800 with his fork.

"They're wunf-" Mouth full of food, Connor paused awkwardly to swallow. "Excuse me. They're wonderful, Markus."

"My compliments to the chef." Carl added, taking a second bite. Having a third at breakfast briefly caused him to reminisce. "If only Leo wasn't...Leo."

"Hm?" Connor glanced up from his plate. Connor had the fortune not to meet Carl's son. Markus closed his eyes and nodded quietly, looking a bit pained.

"Could you ever imagine us all sharing a meal together? I don't know why I still dream of things that I know have no chance of happening. Another illogical human action."

"Where is Leo? Have you heard from him lately?" Markus inquired. He did not want Connor to have to meet the young man if it could be helped.

"Honestly, not since you left." Carl admitted. "Probably got himself locked up again."

"Dad could check and see." Connor offered after swallowing another bite.

"It's no big deal. Leo's done this before. As soon as he's out, he'll come back begging again. It's an unbreakable circle for him." Carl shook his head. "But enough of that. I'm glad you and Markus came to visit today. We'll need to dig out one of my old smocks. Don't want to mess up your nice clothes."

Full and ready to take on the day, the breakfast dishes were left empty on the table in favor of some fun. Carl enjoyed introducing people to the paintbrush, especially Markus despite what had happened afterwards. Connor was covered in a billowy cape covered with the indelible stains of past masterpieces, turning a clean brush in his hands and examining it in detail, from plastic handle to the horse hairs that would hold the medium.

"Why don't you show me what you're capable of?" Carl rested his hand on Connor's back. "Let me get you a palette started." Maneuvering the robotic arm that piloted him around the studio, he squirted tubes of oil paint onto a loved, clan artist's palette, starting with primaries like cadmium red and phthalo blue. Eight to ten colors later, he was taken back beside Markus and Connor.

Connor had been watching Markus with curiosity so strong that he seemed shocked to see Carl back beside him. Carl only smiled. The old man definitely liked deviants. "Don't you worry about what he's painting. Art is about expressing yourself. Paint what makes you happy. Even if it's just moving the brush around the canvas." Carl didn't know what to expect with Connor, though he knew that the first time he gave Markus a brush, he received a nearly photo-perfect copy of his cans of dirty brushes on the sink.

"What makes me happy?" Connor repeated, placing the end of his paintbrush handle against his lower lip as he tried not to look at Markus' colorful work and focus on the gesso coated canvas before him.

"You're here to have fun. Go on." Carl's arm carried him back to a work in progress on the wall he had started, leaving Connor to think while his friends painted quietly to the soft sound of classical music.

While Connor, just like Markus, could and probably would have painted something nearby with precision, Connor instead took to browsing his memories while looking up mixing ratios for the paint colors.

He laid down lighter colors after about five minutes of brainstorming his piece. The painting would have warmth to it if it was something that made him happy. Connor was careful with the brush, experimentally putting down small blotches of color instead of confident strokes. He had a meticulous means of putting art on canvas, at times resting a finger in his mouth and lightly sucking while he pondered what to do next.

The painting continued on, and Markus smiled with pride as he held out his canvas for Connor and Carl to view. "It's a sunrise."

"That's different for you. Fantastically rendered, too..." Carl grinned. "You found out about Bob Ross, didn't you?"

"I have watched a few video files." Markus admitted.

"It's nice to see how different people view the world, and let it inspire you. And speaking of different views, how is your painting coming along, Connor?"

Connor, with some sheepish shyness, took his canvas from the easel and presented it to Markus, turning his back to his grandfather figure. "Is it okay?"

Markus squinted at the painting, but immediately smiled and nodded. "Of course it's okay. Go on, show him." He placed his hand on Connor's shoulder and gently turned him towards Carl.

The old man finally got to see what Connor had been dedicated to creating, and smiled. "Remarkable."

\---

"Put Kamski on." Hank asked the Chloe unit that had picked up the call, phone up to his ear as he stood inside the ascending elevator car with a small stack of paper under his other arm.

"Lieutenant, good to hear from you." Elijah opened confidently and cheerfully after a minute of hold music.

"What I've got to say isn't good at all." Hank gruffed as the car reached his floor. He'd spent an hour listening to Perkins describe their worst nightmare, and four hours letting it stew in his mind and his stomach, unable to focus and sending Gavin in place of him to a homicide to get evidence. He didn't dare use his work cell phone either. Who knew if it could be or had been tapped somehow.

The android creator's tune changed in a heartbeat. The real Elijah got serious. "Hn..."

"Your 'guests' that you warned me about arrived early." Hank alluded to Perkins' early presence.

"They were supposed to come at the start of the new work week." Elijah repeated what Hank already had been told. "Connor may not be ready yet."

"After all this time? He's doing the quarter shit and all that..."

"The Halo may not be finished with its setup...Is there any way you can distract them? Send them back?"

"You're dreaming. Sure, that won't look suspicious." Hank snipped sarcastically. "'Hey, can you guys go hang out in a motel for a few days while we do some secretive crap behind your backs'?"

"The calibration had slowed down remarkably over the course of this morning as well. Are you downloading large files in your apartment?"

"Connor might be looking up shit. The kid went crazy when he did the graduation thing..."

"Graduation mode."

"Yeah, that. What's your plan? The kid's at home, I just need to get him to you, right?" Hank hadn't had possession of the alternate models; they were at Kamski's place, hidden in the open with other projects he'd been working on. The FBI had no reason at the time to search his home, and he hoped it would remain that way.

"We need to hold out as long as possible before the transfer. But if not, we have no choice but to do it as soon as possible." Kamski stressed. "...Meet me at The Gizmo Room tonight at five-thirty with Connor. It's formal-casual."

"Yeah, yeah." Hank muttered. "See you then."

The FBI had arrived early, and now Kamski's plans to evacuate his personal projects from CyberLife needed to be accelerated. But Connor needed more time, apparently.

"Heeeey, Sumo." Hank smiled, leaning down to pet his St. Bernard and ruffle his fur after opening his front door. "Finally time for some lunch. Hey Connor, you wanna go get some Hawaiian Ice for lunch?" He called, passing through the archway and shutting the door behind him. "There's been some change in our plans, I called Kamski and--"

There was no response, which was unusual. Hank could hear a faint sound of water dripping, and a vague rustling further in the unit when he cut himself off. Sumo walked back to his pet bed as if everything was alright, so it seemed as though nothing bad had happened. Sumo lazing about was always a recurring good sign. But something still seemed off.

"Son? You awake?" Hank called. He peered in his bedroom and found the bed made with the old towels neatly folded at the bottom. No Connor around to thank, though.

The bathroom was next, which made the lieutenant arch a brow over. The sink was filled with water, and a selection of bath toys floated inside of it, the faucet dripping every minute or so. Hank pulled the plug with a mildly frustrated sigh, but smiled as he tossed the toys into the bucket. It was nothing to get angry about, though he was glad he caught it when he did. "Connor? Where are you, son?"

One more room to check. He opened the extra bedroom door slowly, a sick feeling in his stomach when Connor was nowhere to be found. "Connor? This shit ain't funny, get your ass out here! We've got a bit of an emergency!" He yelled, fueled by the start of panic. Noticing the curtains waving in the breeze, he realized the window was open, and stuck his head out of it with a multitude of possible problems filling his imagination.

"Fuck, no." His breathing intensified as he rushed into his bedroom once more. "Okay Connor! You got me! You win. Come on out." He called, getting down on his knees to see if the android had slipped underneath his bed.

"Connor, this is serious now. Get the fuck out here." Hank called again, checking closets and even places he was certain Connor wouldn't fit into. But there was no trace of the RK800 to be found. The nausea got worse. "No, no. There's no way they found him that fast. No fucking way."

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and immediately called Jeffrey's personal cell phone number, taking deep breaths as it rang.

"Hank?" The confused police captain responded.

"I can't find Connor." He said softly. It was hard to tell if it was because he wanted to be secretive, or because his worst fear had been realized. What would he do if the FBI - or any malicious person with a hatred for androids - had taken his son?

Fowler surprisingly seemed to understand. "Shit. Hang on, we'll be up. Don't give up hope just yet. We'll do our best to find him."

Hank let his arm holding his phone drop to his side and stared blankly.

They couldn't have gotten him. Could they have? He truly hoped they hadn't.


	4. Chapter 4

They had joined hands, surrounded by the works and tools of Carl Manfred's art studio. Connor and Markus, peaceful expressions on their faces, were simply interfacing to the human eye, but in their minds, shared conversation and memories. Every so often Connor would let out an audible giggle or Markus would laugh with his mouth closed, which in turn would bring a smile to Carl's face as he applied paint to his giant canvas. It was a peaceful existence that both Markus and Connor dreamed of, free from judgment and animosity. This was how Markus wanted it to be for all of his people.

"Hm." Connor briefly broke the connection, notifications starting to pop up and distract him. Their exposed hands separated, and flesh tones trickled back over them to restore their human appearances.

"You okay?"

"Incoming calls." Connor responded with a hint of disappointment, going through the names of the contacts out loud. "Michelle Pierce, Michael Wilson, Jeffrey Fowler...Gavin Reed?"

"Those are your old coworkers." Markus remained beside him, Carl bringing down his robotic arm to see what was going on.

"...Must be pretty important."

"Gavin has no reason to call me, but if they're all coworkers," Connor rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then saw that Hank's number was last on the list. His brown eyes lit up as he turned to Markus and Carl. "Maybe I'm getting my old job back!" He exclaimed.

"Fantastic. You better call them all back." Carl smiled as Markus helped transfer him back to his wheelchair.

"I’ll call them right now."

"We'll leave you be for a while. I'll go get dinner started too."

Connor was overwhelmed by the anticipation as Hank's phone rang, looking at his painting on the easel which was sitting to dry. He'd painted a beautiful portrait of his father using his memories as reference. Carl had told him it looked like a masterpiece despite being his very first painting. He wondered what Hank would think of it.

After catching the click of Hank's line connecting, Connor excitedly began to chatter. "Hi dad! I have a surprise for you!"

"I'm not in the mood for surprises right now. Where the hell are you!?" The lieutenant growled angrily, Connor's happiness dropping like a dead weight. "Why aren't you at home!? What happened!?"

"I..." Connor swallowed and tried to regain his composure. Hank had been angry at him so many times, and he never flinched. Never blinked. Never reacted. What made this time different? He brought his hand to his face, thumbing over his wet eyes. "I went out."

"Are you safe?" Hank yelled, anger and fear still in his voice. Connor found it hard to reply, which caused him to repeat himself at an even louder and rougher tone. "Connor! Are you safe!?"

Again, he nodded even though he couldn't be seen. It was Connor's hitched breath that alerted Hank that something was wrong. "I went out with Uncle Markus." Connor managed, a drop of saline falling to the studio floor. He rubbed his other hand over his face and through his hair, then stared at his palms with wet eyes, hands covered in thickened clear goo. "I went with Uncle Markus."

A sigh of relief filled his head from Hank's side. "Thank god you're safe. I've told you, you need to tell me--"

"You never told me anything. You said I'm a grown-up again."

"I said-" Hank had raised his voice accusingly, but stopped short. "I didn't tell you what I thought I did. I never did." He gruffed softly. "Part of me thought you'd stay home."

Markus had returned with a smile, only to be hit with concern when he found Connor in the state he was in. He moved without hesitation and pulled Connor into a hug, which opened the flood gates for the rest of Connor's tears.

"Connor! Connor, please don't cry, I'm sorry. I need to explain myself--"

"It's okay, Connor. I'm right here." Markus whispered soothingly. "Come on, let's sit down in the study."

"Maybe I forgot...the transfer..." Connor mumbled as they entered the house, his broken voice alerting Carl to join in the worry and confusion that had suddenly hit the former detective. "I forgot, dad!"

"No, no, you didn't forget Connor. Come on son. I need you to listen, I have something very important to tell you. We're all trying to reach you and make sure you're safe -- and you are, I know now --"

"Who's talking to him? I have a nerve to give'em a call myself."

"I don't know yet, maybe one of his coworkers." Markus held Connor's hand, hoping to spur him to interface, but the distraught RK800 wouldn't connect.

"I forget things sometimes!" Connor said out loud and to Hank. "I forgot what you said."

"I think the best we can do is just wait." Markus told Carl, sitting with his friend on the couch.

"Connor, listen to me! I'm going to come get you. There's been a change in plans. We need to act sooner than I expected." Hank went on. "Where did you and Markus go? Are you at the aquarium? We can't run a trace on you right now...for reasons..."

"I'm at grandpa's house." He shivered, sniffling and trying to get his thought process in order.

"His stress levels are climbing." Markus didn't need to connect to realize that. Connor's LED pulsed an angry red.

"Connor." Carl carefully inched forward, placing his wizened hand on top of Connor's, which clenched at his pants. "It's alright." He spoke gently and considerately. "Tell whoever you're talking to that you have to go now."

"I have to go now." Connor spat out.

"Connor wait, I-"

"I'll talk to you soon, Dad." The brunette whispered, finally opening his eyes and discovering where he'd been led to, and that Markus and Carl were staring at him with worry.

"Dad?" Markus was hit with realization, but that only brought more questions to mind. "Lieutenant Anderson...Connor, what happened?"

"Give him a minute or two. Why don't you get him a drink?" Carl placed his arm between Markus and Connor and guided the RK200 back slowly. "You're in a safe place. You are always welcome here. In fact, I hope we get to paint again soon. Having you two around gives me a swift kick in the butt to work on my own paintings."

Connor nodded without a word, still confused and upset, but starting to regain his composure. He'd never experienced an episode like that before. Worse yet, Hank was mad at him, but he did apologize after the misunderstanding.

"Dad is coming."

"I figured as much." Carl sighed, remaining with the RK800 until his son's return. Uneasiness had filled the large, quiet room, Markus' footsteps the only sound in the silence. The android leader took Connor's hand and put a cool thirium pouch in it, a bendy straw already punctured through the foil hole. Connor murmured a thank you as he started to drink, and the three men sat quietly in the security of each other's company until Carl's house AI announced the arrival of Lieutenant Anderson. Markus rose to greet him, quickly rushing towards the front doors while Carl continued to keep watch over Connor, who unconsciously tried to shrink a little into his seat.

Markus looked down at the hardwood floors, wondering what had happened between father and son over Connor's line and unsure of how to face the man. But most of all, he was worried for Connor's well-being. There had to be something going on.

"Lieutenant." Markus' concern actually caught Hank off guard, and the older man lifted his arms up briefly before letting them fall back to his sides.

"Is he okay?" Hank asked plainly, with hints of fatigue.

"We're working on that. His stress levels are high."

"I shouldn't have yelled at him. You're friends. And you're both adults." Hank shook his head. He had trouble saying the second statement. Markus was very mature, but he wasn't quite certain where to place Connor after deviation. "But we need to go."

"What's going on?" Hank was being vague, and though it may have been for Connor's safety, Markus didn't like not being able to help. There was attachment now. He would-be assassin was young family now. Connor needed to be with his people so that one day he would be fully accepted, and more importantly forgiven.

"FBI's back in town, along with a certain someone you all loathe."

Markus knew right away, painful memories flashing before him on the streets. The heartless gaze of Perkins' beady eyes, the evil sneer in his certain grin. It was a human smugness that was ultimately insulting to his people. Perkins would never understand. He was only turned away because the executive branch commanded it. "Perkins? Why is he here?"

"CyberLife is under investigation thanks to Colin's crazy-ass antics making the national news a couple months ago. They want to look around, putting it plainly."

"...And RK800 units don't exist anymore as far as the government is aware." Connor needed to transfer sooner than later.

"Right. It was supposed to be later in the month, but they surprised us this morning. I should've known they'd try to catch people off guard. Kamski knew way ahead of time too."

"Go easy on him, lieutenant." Markus stood beside the doors to the study, motioning Hank to go through them. The Jericho leader's LED fired up a golden glow once Hank was out of sight. Every android would be affected by this, and that meant every android needed to know. /North.../

Carl had given Connor some space so that he wasn't in the way to disturb the two when they had reunited, though he hadn't left the room. A book was a good read, but also a useful tool for an old man to eavesdrop with.

For Connor and Hank at that moment, the artist's actions were effective. Connor slowly lifted his head to face Hank, who looked pale and tired. The android could immediately tell he had low blood sugar and that he'd been through a physical and emotional ringer of stress. Connor was no better, with glassy eyes, saline all over his face with dots of freshly cried liquid on his lap. He trembled every few moments.

As Connor shut his eyes in a feeble attempt to prevent more tears from falling, Hank's sturdy figure leaned towards him with strong arms enveloping him. Hank shirt would get wet too, but the older man didn't give a damn.

"I'm sorry, son." Hank apologized just above a whisper, tightening the hug and rubbing his hand along Connor's back. "I...I still like knowing where you are. I want to know that you're safe." He admitted.

Connor melted into his father's embrace, weakly returning the gesture. The last time they had hugged as adults...it was almost a year ago. He felt warm and fuzzy. Cared for. Loved. He didn't want to let go, but Hank had gently eased him off. They'd reunited, but they weren't out of hot water just yet.

"The FBI is here, Connor."

Connor's worry returned after the brief embrace. Perkins was a threat to every surviving android in Detroit. "Does Uncle Elijah know?"

"He does now. We're going to meet up with him, and we need to get going so that we make it on time."

Connor immediately turned to Carl, who'd picked his head from chapter six of the novel he'd been pretending to read.

"It needs time to dry. Go on, you need to figure out what to do next. It'll be safe here."

"You painted something?" Hank's stressed wrinkles relaxed a little. "No shit? Can't wait to see it."

Hank's fatherly side was starting to re-emerge, and Connor's stress level continued to slowly decrease. But they needed to get going. Connor knew that their adversaries were likely already setting themselves up for their investigation. It would be his job to play the tiny tot once more.

He couldn't help but wonder though: was he playing the role of a child...or more pretending to be a detective?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such a long break between chapters! I'm working with a poor computer and it's been too hot to run it with these temperatures (no air conditioning, bleh). Also apologies that it's taking some time to get our smol bean back, haha. Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoyed this update!


	5. Chapter 5

"Connor?"

The brunette stirred from standby, looking around at their surroundings as the CyberDrive's GPS system softly announced their arrival with its chipper voice. The gearshift switched from drive to park after sliding into a parking spot beside the sidewalk.

"Yes dad?" Connor answered, updating his location and scanning the area.

"We're here." Hank opened his door after watching for cars and stepped out, looking confused and disoriented in his own way. "I think."

Connor followed suit, confirming the address was correct, but also a little perplexed at their destination.

There was supposed to be a fancy restaurant here, but all that stood on the street were two large brick buildings for an abandoned factory, a large fenced off parking lot with a few rusty and rotting trucks populating spaces, and an old fast food burger joint and a demolished gas station lot where the ground revealed where gas pumps once stood in front of a boarded up box of a building.

"We are." Connor confirmed.

"God damn it." Hank muttered. "This is serious. I don't have time for Kamski's sick sense of humor right now. Does he think I'm lying?"

"No." Connor was already on the job. Kamski's RK800L still had a decent amount of useful tech in its composition. "This area is not what it seems."

"I dunno, Con. I've passed this old factory for years. Used to make computer parts when it was open. The little microchips and all that shit. And I ate at that place over there. It wasn't 'The Gizmo Room', it was Burger Bob's."

"Hmm." Connor's curiosity guided him towards the factory buildings, and Hank's worry had him rushing behind the android.

"Connor! Don't go running off without me." Hank scolded with concern, following his son in between the buildings.

The alleyway was narrow, but wide enough for an adult to walk down single file. The first thing that Hank noticed was that the bricks were a richer color than the other sides of the building. He also realized there weren't many weeds growing up through the gravel on the ground, and that there were no traces of trash or pests that would prefer the secluded pathway for its safety. Graffiti hadn't touched the walls of either structure either.

Connor's fingers traced the cement lines in between the bricks curiously. Hank attributed it to a childish pasttime; something Cole would definitely have done out of boredom or while deep in thought.

"Connor, there aren't any restaurants on the other side. Just more abandoned businesses. This part of town was desolate even when more humans were around."

Connor stopped suddenly, looking over his shoulder at Hank. The older man smiled, thankful that sense had seemed to reach his kid. "Come on, let's go back and call him."

"Here." Connor announced, pointing to a water valve.

"Here?" Hank's face twisted in confusion, until Connor began to turn the small red cross of metal pipes with ease. "Connor, no!"

Hank grabbed Connor's arm, until he saw a light source shining on the opposite wall. It grew taller with each turn of the valve, revealing a small doorway that was hidden by a person-sized overhead door that had been meticulously painted to match the brick pattern and texture.

"The Gizmo Room." Connor smiled, the two men peering into the small waiting area of a classy looking restaurant. A host android stood at a podium, the same model as their friend Luther. When they had both stepped through the door, he activated the release on the valve, closing it behind them.

The android pulled two menus with leather covers and red ribbon placeholders from a small compartment in the wall, and motioned to them. "Right this way, please." He directed in his smooth, deep voice.

There were several dozen booths and tables in the restaurant, but all of them were empty with clean, overturned champagne glasses standing at each place setting beside neatly folded cloth napkin triangles and shined silverware. Soft music played and there were old, framed ads for computer companies' products on the walls. The Gizmo Room got its name from all the crazy steampunk-looking devices and toys mounted on the walls.

Behind a division wall, it was revealed that there were actually two other patrons at the restaurant, and Hank heaved a heavy sigh when he saw who was seated in a quiet, cozy booth.

A soft giggle brought a smile to Connor's face, and he quickly knelt down and hugged the tiny little blonde who sat in a highchair with crayons and a paper placemat upon her tray. "Hi Chloe!"

/Connor! You made it!/ Chloe gurgled with joy, while Hank slid into the booth across from Elijah Kamski, who had his menu open on the table. He was looking serious and focused for once, but he was the least bit cold. "Lieutenant, Connor. Please get something to eat. It's on me, and I won't take no for an answer."

Hank was less worried about food.

"May I suggest the grilled chicken club?" The host gestured to the top of the menu. "Master's favorite for lighter fare."

Connor eyed the menu curiously. They hadn't eaten at a restaurant since the sleepover, and he had never ordered food for himself before. The choices were numerous and a little overwhelming.

"I'll just have a cup of coffee." Hank announced.

"Nonsense. Bring out some appetizers." Kamski added, then looked to his little charge. "And what would you like, princess?" He cooed, shifting into 'dad mode' instantly.

"Mac-ah-Cheese!" Chloe giggled. /Macaroni and cheese, please!/

/Of course./ The towering android smiled and nodded, then looked to Connor.

"Uh..." How did humans decide so quickly, he wondered as he quickly scanned all available dishes. "...Chocolate cake."

"Very good."

"Chocolate cake for dinner?" Hank whispered.

"Connor's wish is our command." Elijah smiled. "He's an adult right now." He added softly.

"...I suppose." Hank shrugged, but got back to the matter at hand when the server disappeared. "You could've told us you had a secret restaurant."

"I thought you'd figured it out, and you did!" The inventor chuckled, Chloe clapping happily. "But yes, this is The Gizmo Room, my personal restaurant. I used to have a lot more people here in the past, when I cared more for socializing."

"Anybody could waltz right in, knowing how the door works."

"Not really. There's a camera too. Alan only releases the lock for invited guests." Speaking of Alan, he had returned, filling Hank's coffee cup with fresh brew and Elijah's glass with ice cold spring water. He then pulled two pouches of thirium from his apron and placed them on the table before leaving once more.

"This is a useful place to meet, then." Hank concluded, and Elijah nodded in response.

/How do you like the model?/ Connor asked curiously, taking a blue crayon that the little girl held out to him.

/It's quite different. Challenging./ She replied, trying to guide her green crayon to execute the shape she wanted to draw. /Elijah removed all the locks, but it's still restrictive./

/Agreed./ Connor smiled.

/How did you like it? Overall, that is./

/...It was nice./ He sighed wistfully, drawing a circle on the paper placemat in front of him. /I found it to be a burden at first. But I got to see a whole different side of Hank and other people./

/Hank really is a good man./ Chloe smiled, filling in her drawing with scribbles of the yellow crayon.

/Yeah. He doesn't seem very happy that I'm back in this form./

/He doesn't?/ Chloe furrowed her brow, squinting at her artwork. It looked nothing like macaroni and cheese and more like an amoeba.

Connor shook his head.

/Well, maybe he's--/

"Num-nums are here, Chloe!" Elijah announced, spooking both androids back to consciousness of the environment around them. Chloe was presented with a cereal bowl of macaroni and cheese, and Connor a plate of decadent chocolate cake with dark chocolate ganache and a dollop of whipped cream on top. A platter of snacks, both deep-fried and on the healthier side, was set in the center of the table for everyone.

"You ready for a transfer tonight, kid?" Hank asked Connor before the brunette to take his first bite.

"Tonight?" Connor lowered his fork back to his plate. "What about the Halo?"

"We'll just have to redo the full installation after this mess is taken care of." Elijah explained, spoon feeding Chloe a bite of noodles. "It won't have that major of an impact on you."

"You'll...be a toddler tonight...in the YB200." Hank nodded, snapping a bite of raw carrot before continuing.

Though Connor shoved the large bite of cake into his mouth, he was processing the words in his head. He briefly looked to Chloe, then back to Hank as he swallowed and placed the fork on the table. He eventually nodded.

"You're okay with that?" Connor asked, wiping his lips.

"Of course, son. I agreed to it on the day of the first transfer. This is your job."

Elijah laughed when Chloe's face shone with spots of cheese sauce, helping her clean up. Connor smiled nostalgically for a brief moment.

Hank would be more open again. Care about him more. Help him without hesitation.

Hank would show him affection.

"...I'm ready." Connor responded, then savored another bite of cake.

"I'm sorry I'm cutting your little 'vacation' short, but I don't want Perkins threatening to take you away from me just because of your face and Colin's stupidity." Hank admittedly sadly.

Connor didn't seem to think his being in the RK800 was a vacation, especially after what had happened earlier that day. He was very confused and still felt upset about it all, but Hank seemed to forget all about it after they entered the restaurant. "I won't have to interact with Agent Perkins, will I?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Kamski set the spoon in the empty bowl. "This is a serious matter for both you and I. The FBI will not find out about the YB-series, or the other prototypes. I don't care what they do with the leftovers of the RK900. They're useless to them as far as I'm concerned. My only worry is Colin now."

Colin had uploaded himself into the RK900 and tried to hunt Connor in an attempt to abduct him and start his idea of the perfect family with him. But thanks to Hank, North and Markus, along with the DPD, they'd stopped his rampage. Colin was fortunate to keep his life and his freedom, but had to undergo a memory wipe as punishment to prevent it from happening again.

But even worse, the RK900 was all over the news as a dangerous model type. And the RK900 shared a face with Connor, only adding to the horrific history the former detective had as the feared Deviant Hunter. It felt like Connor had no hope to be seen as a fellow peaceful android in the days ahead.

Alan returned to the table to warm up Hank's coffee, but Connor looked to his 'boss'. "Uncle Elijah?"

Two words nearly made the android creator's heart melt. And Connor didn't forget that fact. "Yes Connor?"

"May I order something else?"

"You can have whatever you desire." Elijah smiled proudly.

Connor smiled in turn, as did Chloe and Hank. Connor had developed more charm from his experiences as a baby. "I'd like a blue raspberry slush drink."

Alan seemed confused, as it wasn't an item on the menu, but Elijah was determined to make Connor happy. "We don't have a slush machine here, but!" Elijah put his hands together and smiled. "We will get you one on the way to my place."

The RK800 smiled.

"You and your 'blue'." Hank laughed.

Though he thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Markus and Carl in his new body -- enjoyed being independent and free -- transferring to the YB200 sounded better and better to him, all things considered. He leaned back in the booth and paused to close down some of his open windows and do something Hank liked very much -- to relax and enjoy the moment.

Even if it was short lived.

Connor's eyes widened, and he stood up with urgency. "Uh! I need..."

They all stared at him with confusion until Elijah realized his problem. And he would, especially after previous recent events. "To the right, down the stairs!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gizmo Room is a parody of a restaurant's name in Detroit, and also inspired by 'secret restaurants' I read and also watch about on the food channels. Kamski strikes me as a guy who would have one.


	6. Chapter 6

"Arriving at the Kamski Estate in approximately fifteen minutes." The black sedan announced as Hank impatiently tapped on the arrival time button upon the dashboard's computer screen. Immediately afterwards, he pressed the button for the route, but the vehicle played a musical tone followed by an error message: "This preloaded route cannot be edited or canceled until the vehicle has reached its destination."

Hank mockingly mouthed the error message in unison with it, having heard it multiple times...in the last two hours. They could have been there by now -- should have been there by now -- but there was some kind of method to Elijah Kamski's madness when it came to setting up the defense against the FBI.

Hank hadn't been filled in on the entirety of Kamski's game plan, and as of that moment he was just supposed to be a parent after they'd transferred Connor from the RK800L to the new and untested prototype YB200. Both Hank and Connor had seen it briefly, but in its original default form within a storage capsule in the CyberLife research and development lab. It was slightly bigger than the YB100, and had more features. Those features would allow the android all the range of a typical toddler, from wobbly baby to a small child ready for preschool. The lieutenant had loved Connor as the YB100, which, within about two to three months, went from a baby that couldn't crawl to a shakily walking and slightly talking tot. Beyond Graduation Mode, he could 'mature' no more.

Connor's soft slurping of air pulled the older man out of his fog of frustration, smiling ever so sightly when the brunette stopped. Hank could tell he was a little embarrassed, but it was charming. But without a drink, Connor was now showing signs of impatience too. 

"I get that we're trying to avoid suspicion by keeping our distance from Kamski, but this route is fucking ridiculous."

"He created this route over five years ago." Connor had placed his fingertip against a reader beside the screen. Hank couldn't see the route details, but Connor could interface with the car and look at every step. "The personal note attached to this set of directions says that it's for viewing Christmas lights."

"Guess we were supposed to pretend the lights were there." Hank smirked.

"Uncle Elijah must really like the holidays." Connor concluded.

"I guess." Hank rested his chin on his hand, then came to a revelation. "...You've never really celebrated a holiday, have you?"

"No, I haven't. I don't think many androids have as of our deviation. But we know of them, of course."

"Kids love them best. The big ones."

"The big ones?" It took the android a moment to realize he'd meant bigger holidays and not bigger kids. "So Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas..."

"Yup. We didn't do much for the fourth of July. The next one is Labor Day, but that's just a day off for office workers. October has Halloween, November has Thanksgiving which is basically a food holiday, and December ends with Christmas." Hank thought aloud, catching Connor's fancy.

"If they're as enjoyable and memorable as a birthday party, I'm interested in researching them more." There was a sparkle in the android's eye.

"You could if you wanted. But you did that with birthdays and were pretty neutral-minded at first, remember?"

"That's true." Connor had found that experiencing a birthday party was definitely a much better means to get data (and have fun) than seeking the information from the internet.

"We'll worry about it when the time comes." Hank sighed, watching Kamski's mansion rise into his line of vision. He then turned to Connor, a sinking feeling in his stomach about the FBI's plans. They were bested once, but a loss wouldn't keep them down for long. Like Connor, they were smart, loyal, and would do whatever it takes to complete their mission.

Reality hit Connor when they'd parked the car, especially when Hank had pulled the camo-print diaper bag from the back seat and removed the objects that were sitting in Connor's car seat. A parent of a baby or toddler rarely left home without it. In the beginning, the bag had room to spare, but before transferring to his RK800 model, it was filled to the brim, so much that tugging the zipper closed required some strength.

"May I help with anything?" Connor offered, extending a hand.

"Nah, I'm good, kid. After the transfer, I gotta be able to haul this on my own, right?"

"I suppose that makes sense, but currently I'm a grown man."

Hank looked over his shoulder at his android son for a moment, then held out an object that brought a small smile to Connor's face.

"How 'bout you carry _that_?" 

Hank shook a plush pink bunny out in front of him, and Connor was more than happy to take it.

The android followed beside Hank, running his fingertips of the patterned portions of fabric that were part of its body. It was a gift from Hank. A well-loved gift from his father. Rarely was he without something soft to hold onto as a baby android. He recalled the day Hank gave it to him, and the emotions made him hold it tighter against him as they ascended the few steps in front of the large house before them.

"Did he forget we were coming?" 

Both waited and wondered, sitting in the darkness before the door. Connor's LED providing inadequate light for the few moments it took for the doors to open.

"Hello-oh!" Berty, the MK700 who'd brought Connor back into the world, was unprepared for Connor's embrace. She was chuckling and affectionately patting his back once she'd found her balance, though Connor would never have let her fall.

"Connor! You can't just glomp someone like that!"

"Glomp? Oh. My apologies, Berty. I was just very happy to see you. Markus didn't seem to mind it earlier, dad."

"I haven't heard that word spoken out loud ever in my lifetime until now." A familiar voice teased. Kamski sounded out of breath, wearing his well-loved work clothes and thick framed glasses, with safety goggles hanging from his neck. He grinned mischievously as he pulled off one of his protective gloves to scratch at his ear.

"So you know the language of the otaku." Hank smirked.

"First rule of old school anime fandom, you don't talk about anime fandom." Elijah looked to Hank, who held up his hands defensively after setting their belongings down.

"You talk about it, but in private. With booze."

"No Pocky?"

"That's fancy shit. We didn't get to eat that unless there was a convention in town."

Connor eyed the exchange with question, unable to make much sense of it at first. But before he could start running search queries over Elijah's wifi, Berty reminded them of their agenda. "The only judgment you need to be worried about is if the FBI stumble onto something that could earn you their ire."

"Right." Hank muttered. "What's the plan now that our asses have arrived?"

"We need to transfer Connor to the YB200 immediately. My having an RK800 build on the property shouldn't be questioned, as it was initially my design. Once we're done, I don't think anyone will be up for much besides sleep, the girls and Berty excluded."

Connor glanced around the entrance hall with mild anxiety mixed with excitement. The FBI stumbling onto him in his current state would be problematic.

"Yes." He agreed softly, looking down at his rabbit and turning it slowly in his hands. Scanning it, it still held trace scents of baby powder and Hank's natural scent, and it still appeared new. It was still named 'Bunny'. There were no other changes to it. It smiled at him eternally, and its soft minky fur was comforting and pleasant to touch.

It was silly to consider that it called out to him, but it did cause him to recall the simpler days in the very recent past. More smiles, no concern for the passage of time, the majority of humans and androids ensuring he was safe, functional, and happy. Almost constant contact.

_"It's going to be fine, Connor."_

Connor picked up his head with urgency. Had he been distracted?

"Whoa, easy. It's going to be fine, Connor." Hank patted him on the shoulder.

"Let's get to the lab." Elijah motioned at Connor, and the young man looked back briefly at Hank for reassurance. He lifted his arm slightly, but Hank simply nodded, and motioned towards Kamski with his fuzzy chin.

"Go on. Don't keep him waiting, son."

"Of course." Confused and feeling a sense of worthlessness, Connor responded softly, turning back towards his new boss and putting distance between the two of them.

"Lieutenant Anderson?" A Chloe model soon came out of the door that Connor and Kamski disappeared through, though not the one that was currently in a YB100 of her own. Her blonde hair was straightened, portions hanging in front of her shoulders with the rest flowing long down to the small of her back. Like her sister, she smiled sweetly and gently, and was ready to offer her help. "We have a guest room prepared for you. It's not far from the lab."

"Never thought I'd see more of this place..." He wanted to crack a joke about expecting Kamski's abode to be a mad scientist's lab straight out of a sci-fi horror flick, but it would either be lost on the two women, or more likely taken the wrong way seeing as both were deviant more long term than Connor. Along with the camouflage-print baby bag, Hank's customized and well-loved backpack had come along with toiletries and a change of clothes. He let out a sigh as he, Berty and the new Chloe passed through the pool room and through another doorway.

\---

A familiar location from a few months ago welcomed Connor about an hour after shutdown. A sensation similar to a soft breeze stirred in the simulation, rustling the grass and what appeared to be trees that were visible but impossible to approach, no matter how far he walked.

Artificial. Just barely off from the reality he experienced as a baby.

The field of blue flowers and peaceful skies surrounded the stone pedestal that stood before him, an impression of his hand in the center of the disc that was mounted to the top of its base. Seconds later, a thirty-minute timer faded into existence, and began to countdown towards zero in white digits, a soft ticking sound accompanying it. He was alone as before, but there was no voice to be heard yet.

There were a few more differences to note, but he wasn't aware of all of them until he placed his hand on the disc.

The timer continued to run, but nothing was happening. Worry struck as he looked around with concern. There were twenty-eight minutes left.

"Eager, are we?"

Connor pulled his hand away and jumped in fright at Kamski's voice, head darting around in an attempt to find its owner as he did the last time with Berty.

"That's the link to the YB100. You're not hooked up to it, so it won't work."

That made sense, Connor supposed, remaining silent. He was eager, but he didn't want to confirm it. Instead, he just wanted to scrub away his rosy cheeks, even though nobody could see his virtual avatar.

"Once I get the wires situated, you'll see another monument of some sort, I imagine. Berty knows more about this UI than I do."

Now the timer worried him. He knew what to do, it just wasn't ready for him to act yet. He fidgeted slightly and paced about the field. When he realized that he was fidgeting, he crossed his arms and closed his hands around the fabric of his shirt on both sides. Before he was uploaded into the YB100, he would have been fine waiting. For hours, days...months if it came to that.

He didn't like being alone anymore. He didn't realize he'd started to cry until Kamski spoke up again.

"Strange." Kamski commented out loud.

"Strange?" Connor echoed with concern in his voice.

"The RK800 is releasing a small amount of saline from the tear ducts. Nothing to worry about, I think. I'll look it over tomorrow when I have time."

"If you say so, Uncle Elijah." Connor responded without feeling. He wasn't even certain Kamski could hear him, as Berty did not seem to months ago.

"Almost ready. Need to double-check a few things. This is the only instance of the model I have...have to be more cautious."

"Of course. I understand." Connor sounded so mechanical. It wasn't normal. Well, it wasn't normal for him now, as a deviant.

Every slight change in the garden put him on alert, like the rapid and random blips of white light across the sky or the slight instability of the timer's numbers. As soon as he saw and felt the second pedestal materialize up ahead, he ran to it as fast as he could. Everything bit and byte of his programming moved like clockwork. He placed his palm upon his handprint once it had reached its max height from the ground, and a sensation he would describe as warmth washed over him. He was more than ready to wake up again. _Much more eager._

"That was fast. Transfer initialized, we've got a good, solid connection." Elijah continued to speak out loud, announcing data and readings until the volume of his words gradually descended to complete silence.

"Already at ten percent." One of his 'sisters' called out.

Light surrounded Connor as the transfer started, and he felt his consciousness fading as his data poured through the wires into the memory core cradled inside another Halo. Soon he would be in his new body.

Soon, he would have _all_ of Hank's love and affection once more.


	7. Chapter 7

[System Update 100% Complete. -OK-]

 

[Restarting, please do not move from power source.]

 

If his facial expressions had booted up first after the system restart, Connor would have smiled before performing any other startup operation. Instead, his body moved in a way a young child would upon awakening. His little limbs shuddered and stretched out, hands in fists and optical units blinking as his biocomponents began to sync with each other and his OS. Thirium flowed through him faster than before, and his model began to warm up, bright light forcing him to squint and adjust to sight through new eyes.

The increased size of everything around him confirmed that the transfer was a success. In seconds, a status check was performed of the model as a whole. Another set of locks sat in his system files, fewer than before. But Connor knew that didn't mean being a toddler would be any easier. He was simply picking up where he left off, to his knowledge.

Once the bare basics of his concerns were calmed, the next important issues needed to be tackled. Specifically the reason there was nobody present to greet him. Were he in a bed like the one he'd used as a YB100, there would be safety precautions in place. The gates would be up and a monitor would detect sound.

/Where is everyone?/

Connor scanned anything and everything within a certain distance around him, at least things that he could see which were fortunately very few. The android hadn't quite figured out that the batteries within the YB series androids were powerful, but unable to handle the near constant observations of the former detective. Chloe and Kamski were not in range. In fact, nobody was near the exam table Connor laid upon, the boy diapered and covered up with a sheet. A few cords jutted out from both of his arms, light grey and distinguishable by markings and numbers written on each one with a permanent marker. The thickest cord was primary blue and connected to his right arm inside his wrist.

It was the easiest one to tug out. The others required a little extra oomph, and one had two screws to hold it in place. That final wire was easy to remove with tiny fingers that could securely grasp the screws' plastic-coasted knobs.

With a final pop, the wires fell to the side of the exam table, too short and lightweight to clatter and make much noise, though the bunches swayed a little before resting. Plates covering up his ports automatically and turning a shade of creamy light peach, Connor carefully rolled onto his side, kicking the sheet off by pumping his little legs. That, too, lumped onto the floor.

Connor was pleased that he hadn't attracted any attention yet, half expecting there to be some sort of obvious motion sensor set off by the removal of his wires or movement on the table.

/Did they forget about me?/ Connor wondered, finally sitting up and getting a better look at the lab. Not much looked different from before the transfer took place, but his RK800L model was no longer in view from any angle. Even a scan provided solid proof that it wasn't nearby.

Babyish emotions began to affect him for the worse, tears in his eyes as he wondered if everyone had left him all alone. Toddlers normally felt two ways when alone: afraid or in a state of freedom. His adult thought processes said it was absurd and irresponsible for them to do something like that, while the YB200 reminded him that humans were unpredictable and that he should find his father...or more accurately, 'find Daddy'.

/Daddy!/ Connor assigned finding Hank as his top objective. /I must find him./ He rubbed his eyes, and looked down at the floor. There was a box of diapers beside him, opened and missing only one of the total count. /Whoever diapered me didn't think to put them away./ He thought to himself with some amusement. They'd unwittingly provided him a soft landing.

Connor acted quickly and rolled off the table, his back landing against the stacks of disposables in the box with a soft thud. Once the shock of the drop had passed, Connor rolled to the side again, finally on the floor with the diapers partially spilled out on the lab floor. He left them there and began to crawl to the door out; crawling was faster and if there was anyone watching, he'd be less likely to be spotted crouched down.

The lab door opened automatically when he approached. /Maybe they weren't expecting me to leave./ Connor thought, entering the carpeted hallway with a tiny smile as the door closed behind him. A red light on the special padlock in the door frame turned from green to red, meaning he couldn't get back inside. But that was fine.

He had successfully escaped Kamski's lab! A babyish giggle escaped his lips, and he was now left with what he thought were a lot of options, but also a ton of unmarked doors. Kamski's house was a small maze if you didn't know where you were going. Connor knew how to get to the front door and the lab, but that was it. He would need to map out the rest of the space, and that required trial and error.

[Battery 90% - 2:34am CST - Self Assigned Objective: Find Daddy]

/Gotta find dad./ Connor put on a very adorable look of determination, and started moving again. The halls were big and seemingly endless. The doorways were big enough that he could hide in them whenever he heard someone in the hallway, which at the time were other Chloe units. Sure, he could have just asked one of them where Hank was, but his new body had a different means of interpreting objectives too. He wondered if they would keep him away from his father if they caught him, and he could not risk that. So for the time being, the RT600's were not on his side, nor was Kamski.

He recalled being in the police station hall that led to the evidence room as battery power hit 75%. He left no stone -- or rather, decorative end table or furniture -- unturned in the hallways, including the landmarks as reference points. Needless to say, he wouldn't risk actually turning them over. That would cause a stir he didn't want.

Desperation hit fast. He'd only been searching for fifteen minutes. The YB200 had determined fifteen minutes was almost as long as 'infinity', and his logic was questionable with his next move. "Daddy!?" Connor called out without regard to the consequences, but received no answer. The house felt endless, despite the map showing a perfectly normal layout for a large house. /Mapping the house is somewhat useless. I don't have the coordination to open the door knobs, and the Chloes are all over the place performing household tasks./

He sat down with his back to one of the doors, and rolled onto it as it slowly opened, as it hadn't been latched shut. Connor almost started to cry from the surprise, but being able to look inside the room gave him renewed hope. He rolled onto his stomach and returned to crawling, doing his best to check out the dark room.

The ever so slight variations in the carpeting had meant an adult human or android was in the room recently. A large queen bed was positioned close to the door, the sheets undone but without anyone to occupy it. Connor was beginning to think he'd found a useless bedroom, until he spotted a glowing object across the room beneath a tall structure with four legs.

/A night light./ After making his way towards it, Connor admired the device, pink and green light shining over his face. He touched the flower-shaped light curiously, then glanced directly up to see the CyberLife logo etched into the metallic plate above. He didn't have much time to scan further, as a piercing cry startled him.

He was in Chloe's room.

He quickly crawled away, but there was no time to leave safely as bright, warm light suddenly illuminated the room. He had to hide underneath the queen bed and hope it was enough. It would seem that his older-now-younger sister had unwittingly given him away.

"Daddy's here, princess!"

Kamski. Thank goodness. A human wouldn't spot him as easily as a Chloe.

"Oh, my little buttercup, what's the matter?" Kamski continued to coo at the little girl, Chloe fighting to boot up and endure the YB100's needs while Connor stilled in hiding. "Oh, daddy left the diapers in the lab with Connor. Little guy's been fast asleep for a loooong time...yeah, I know, baby girl. I bet you can't wait to play with him!" He grunted, hoisting Chloe up with him and preparing the leave the room. "Let's go get one and check on him too."

The room darkened once more, and the night light's reassuring glow returned, leaving Connor with the opportunity to leave. He was running out of time. /When Chloe and Kamski see that I'm gone, they'll start to look for me./ He fretted. He wanted Hank to find him. That alone got him tearing up again. /I...I want dad. I.../ He sniffled. /I want dad to hug me./ He thought. /It's illogical, but,/ He forced himself to move again. /I want him to tell me everything will be okay, despite that being something he can't ensure...but when he tells me that, I almost believe in that logic--/

His head of curly brown hair popped out from under the bed, and when he looked up, a familiar figure was crouched in front of him, looking rather amused.

Connor retreated, scooting backwards for a chance to get out from the other side. The lights were on again, and he could see two bare feet standing in wait. In seconds, he was surrounded. /No! He only just left the room, how?/ Connor whimpered out loud.

"Connor, come here, baby." One of the Chloes cooed. "It's dark and dusty under the bed."

Connor brightened at the sight of a familiar friend... /Mr. Kitty! Thank goodness, I-/ Until he saw Chloe's hand around its waist.

"I've got your kitty cat!" Another Chloe tried to coax him out with the toy, shaking it a little.

/I'm one year old! You can't fool me that easily!/ Connor grimaced, inching to the back of the wall where the bed's head board stood. Staying away from their reach should have kept him safe, but the Chloe units weren't human. They were fine with getting down on their stomachs and sliding under the bed.

"Oh, Connor." A Chloe with two long braids looked at him sympathetically as she successfully secured her hands around his tiny waist. "Let's get you out from under here. You could hurt yourself."

/I am fine!/ Connor tried to grab the tiny loops of carpeting, but his grip was much poorer than an adult android's, despite being stronger than a human baby's. "No!" He finally blurted out loud.

Despite his wishes, he was finally out from under the bed and being cradled in the RT600's arms. "There, that's better. You must've been so scared."

/They're not even listening to me./ Connor pouted. Then again, he didn't know these particular Chloes all that well...aside from the pool... /Wait! You should be able to understand me just fine!/

/Naughty baby, crawling out of the lab./

Yep, they could understand him just fine.

/I am not...naughty!/ Connor replied indignantly. /You are naughty!/

His captor giggled out loud, taking Connor out of little Chloe's room and into the hallway along with her sisters. /I suppose that is true. But you've been asleep for over forty-eight hours. We couldn't predict when and if you would start back up./

/Well, you certainly-/ Connor paused, looking adorably confused once more.

He'd been unconscious for forty-eight hours?

Kamski had rushed down the hall with a very confused little blonde in tow, but his pace relaxed once he saw that Connor was accounted for. "Will you be fine with Connor while I help Chloe freshen up?"

"Of course, Elijah."

"No!" Connor exclaimed.

Kamski enjoyed a brief laugh. "We take our eyes off of you for five minutes and you're covered in dust bunnies. Not to mention making a mess of the lab floor." 

That playful disappointment still put shock and embarrassment in Connor as he sheepishly hid his face, turning away from the man and trying to hide his face against Chloe's dress. He just wanted to find Hank...

"Daddy!" Connor cried out. /Where's my dad!?/

"Ohh, I'm sorry, buddy. When you didn't wake up when we expected, I worried something might be wrong. The lieutenant will be back after--"

"DADDY!!!!"

Connor had never screamed before. He thrashed and panicked, the RT600 clinging tighter to him to keep him from falling out of her arms.

"Should I contact Lieutenant Anderson?"

"Do it in the morning. I have an idea."

/You will contact him now! No, in fact, I will do it myself!/ Connor raged. /What is the wifi password!?/

/Connor, it's much too late. Hank knows you're okay. The prototype--/

/I demand to know the wifi password! I'm not a real baby!/

/As of right now, you are./ She said firmly. /You certainly aren't acting like an RK800 at this time./

/That's preposterous! I am a.../

"Come see me, Connor." A new but familiar and soothing voice made itself present, two long and careful arms pulling him away from the Chloe that had been holding him tight.

Connor felt instantly relieved for some reason, despite at one time the owner of the voice being an android he wanted to be distant from as well. /Berty?/ He wibbled.

The tall, lean android woman held the YB200 to her chest and pressed in his LED ring, making its angry red flicker turn green for a few moments. "You've exhausted your battery over half of its capacity from your stress. And I bet you've been very curious of your surroundings." She knew he'd probably been analyzing anything and everything.

After all, she was caring for a baby android herself.

The little brunette put on a tough face until Berty had distanced herself significantly from Kamski and the adult Chloes. But when he began to cry, it was much softer yet sadder. /I want dad...why did he go home?/

/Your setup took a long time. He had to go to work. You would have been here, or with your friends from Jericho./

She rocked the boy a little before pushing open the door to her room. It, too, was dark, but there was a desk lamp on which made it easier to see without waking up the other in the room, laying inside a bed identical to Chloe's. Adam seemed to be the only one in the house not conscious, curled up with his green bunny and regaining power to take on the next day. Berty gave Connor a hug before laying him on the opposite side of the bed, giving Connor his own blanket and pillow.

/Thank you./ Connor seemed to be getting a hold of himself once more, but unfortunately at the point where his fatigue was affecting him. Like in the YB100, the whimsical sleep mode tone had already sounded off, alerting him that his operating system was preparing to power down.

/Of course. You'll see Hank soon, and sleep mode will help the time pass./ She turned off the lamp, and Connor watched her enter stand by after laying down on the guest bed. She didn't need rest, but she needed to put up the facade so that Adam would.

Connor stared at the ceiling beneath his sheets, running series upon series of simulations of what could have possibly happened with the last of his battery life. He'd gone into sleep mode with a troubled look on his face, and while that wasn't a big problem...

"Connor?" A soft voice questioned sleepily in the darkness. The YB200 was so low on power, he wouldn't realize until he powered back on that Yellow lay beside him. 

Or that Adam had decided to finish the night resting beside him, rather than across.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking forever to update, so this chapter is a bit longer than originally planned. One of my parents had an accident and I've taken on extra duties to help them out, and that'll be for the next couple months unfortunately on top of work and stuff. x.x I'm not mad, but I do have less time to write! I will update whenever I can, though.
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely comments, by the way! I'll try to get to them. I did from my phone before which was VERY convenient, but for some reason I can no longer read or reply to comments on mobile anymore (please fix this, AO3!).
> 
> Love you all and thank you for sticking with me!


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